


down and away

by pixies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Rowing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1916106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixies/pseuds/pixies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>university/rowing team au with minimal rowing and lots of cuddling.</p><p>(Prompt: Uni AU featuring a rowing/crew team. Harry as the stroke seat, Louis as the coxswain (smaller than the others, bossy, loud, loud and loud). Lots of staring, shirtless practices, stuff like that. :) )</p>
            </blockquote>





	down and away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [decisionsandrevisions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/decisionsandrevisions/gifts).



Louis shows up late to weight training- as usual- but gets away with it (as usual).

“Sorry, Mark,” Louis says as he slips into the weight room, dropping his backpack off at the wall and tugging his sweatshirt over his head, damp from the rain. “Class ran late.”

“More like you didn’t wanna walk across campus in the storm that we had about twenty minutes ago,” Mark replies, clapping Louis on the back. “Get in there with Ni, then.”

Louis nods and slips between the various machines and weights to the corner of the room where Niall is; as the coxswains of the team, they wouldn’t typically have to join in on team workouts, but their Coach has always had their entire team workout and weight train together in order for them to become closer as a team. And it’s worked, too- Louis’ heard stories of teams that only have the rowers work out together, and they don’t seem to mesh as well with their coxes as their team does. Of course, he’s probably biased. 

As he crosses the room, he makes eye contact with Harry, shirtless and sweaty, propped up on the leg press. His hair is pushed back with a headband and he’s got a towel over his shoulder, and he winks at Louis when he meets his eyes. 

Louis is grateful for Niall calling out to him then, pulling his focus away from the trickle of sweat that had trailed down the side of Harry’s face and neck and was making it’s way slowly down to his pec, his chest heaving as he caught his breath in between reps.

“Okay, okay,” Louis starts. “I’m here. Focused. Let’s go.”

Niall just snorts and bumps shoulders with him, nudging him towards the free weights. “I’m assuming your warm up can be the jog you just took across campus,” he says once Louis has two weights in his hands. “And your cardio can be your accelerated heart rate after your little eye-fuck you and Styles just had.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Louis replies, rolling his eyes, but he’s grinning when he looks at Niall. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And also, you know what they say about assuming.”

“Yeah, and the noises I heard last night in our apartment were what, exactly?” Niall retors, ignoring Louis’ attempt at being clever.

“Oh, Niall. You wish you knew.”

They drop into an easy silence then, working their way through some free weight exercises side by side. Twenty minutes in, Louis’ upper arms are burning and he’s worked up a good sweat; he sets the weights back on the rack and grabs the bar, turning to the mirror to watch his form as he does squats. 

(If Harry happens to be at the pull up bar at the other side of the room, directly behind him and with a perfect view of his butt when he plants his feet wide and drops into his first squat, then that’s just convenient, isn’t it?)

He and Niall finish up about an hour later, not having to stay as long as the rowers because as the coxswains, they’re supposed to be the lightest on the shell and don’t wanna build too much muscle. Harry whips Louis on the butt with his towel as Louis walks by him to get to the door and Louis fakes a hurt gasp, reaching behind him to spread a hand over the cheek that got hit by the end of the towel. He smirks when Harry’s eyes drop to where he’s grabbing his own bottom none too subtly, seeing the way Harry’s gaze darkens. 

“Oi, Tommo!” Niall calls from the door, he and Louis’ bags hiked over his shoulder. “Come on already, it’s supposed to start raining again soon. You got four seconds or you’re walking to the apartment.”

“Have I told you guys that I have the meanest roommate in the state?” Louis calls out to the room at large. He’s met with laughing and hollering, everyone in the room jumping to defend Niall’s honor. The sun may shine out of his own ass, but Niall is easily everyone’s favorite, and he raises his hands in surrender as he walks to the door, throwing an arm around Niall’s shoulders as they leave.

\---

An hour later, Louis has just gotten out of the shower; he towel dries his hair quickly before wrapping the towel around his hips and padding from he and Niall’s shared bathroom to his bedroom.

He’s not surprised to see Harry lounging on his bed, flat on his back with his hands behind his head, but he still starts a little. He can neither confirm nor deny that he yelps a little, too, hand coming up to cover his mouth as he narrows his eyes at Harry.

“Dude, I just washed those,” he says after a moment, pointing at his sheets. Which Harry is currently laying on, still sweaty from his workout. He walks closer to the bed, til his knee is nudging the edge of the mattress. “You’re still all sweaty.”

Harry sits up then, scooting to the end of the mattress. His hair is up in a ponytail now, long enough that only a few of the shortest pieces slip out, and he’s still got the headband on. It works for him. He’s broken out of his mini-reverie when Harry shifts so his legs are on either side of Louis’ body, reaching out to pull Louis closer with a hand on his hip. “Gonna need to wash them again anyways,” he murmurs, smirk tugging at his lips. He waggles his eyebrows ridiculously as he continues. “If you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, babe, got it with the first part,” Louis answers, smiling and reaching up to cup the side of Harry’s face. He rubs his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip lightly. 

Harry’s grip on his hips tightens, pulling him even closer. “Hey, Niall?” Louis calls out, eyes trained on Harry’s lips. 

“Yeah?” Niall responds from the living room, where he’s no doubt already four levels into his newest video game. It’s unfair how much he loafs around (and eats) and still stays as scrawny as he is. 

“Five minute warning,” Harry answers, smirking up at Louis before reaching up so his hand is grasping the back of Louis’ neck to tug him down for a kiss. 

They hear the front door slam thirty seconds later, and Harry grins up into the kiss, his free hand dropping to where Louis’ towel is just barely still knotted at his hips. 

He undoes the towel quickly, allowing it to drop to the floor, and then drops a hand to the back of Louis’ thigh to tug lightly and prompt Louis to climb onto the bed. Louis does so, straddling Harry’s hips and settling himself in his lap; Harry’s hands immediately go to Louis’ ass, and Louis laughs a bit breathlessly as Harry’s big hands spread out over the curve of it, getting a shameless grope.

“You were ridiculous in the gym today,” Harry murmurs. “Lost count of my reps like four times.”

Louis doesn’t answer, just closes the distance between them to kiss Harry again. And again.

\--- 

That night, they go out for a team dinner. They do it once every couple of weeks, all meet up in one of the campus dining halls for “bonding”- which, like. They’re all pretty close already, to be honest, especially the rowers on Louis’ shell, but he does like getting to hang out with the rest of the team some outside of class and the gym. Plus, they’ve got a race coming up next weekend, so Coach likes them to meet up and hang out and talk strategy.

Which of course means they’re all sitting in the corner of the campus diner, tables shoved together so they can all fit, and describing each other’s most prominent personality traits.

“Okay, I don’t think anyone’s done Greg, Louis, or Bres,” Niall says, leaning back in his chair with a hand on his stomach.

“I’ll do Louis,” Harry pipes up quickly, prompting laughter from around the table. He nudges Louis’ knee with his own when Louis mutters “Oh, you’ll do me alright,” under his breath, just loud enough for Harry to hear. 

“Okay, Louis Tomlinson-” Harry starts, a smirk already tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Louis is...bossy-” Everyone nods their assent. 

“In a good way, Lou!” Greg adds, and Louis reaches across the table to fist bump him. 

Harry continues. “Bossy, um. Loud, loud, and...loud.”

“As a coxswain should be!” Louis defends, but he knows Harry’s not just referencing the volume of his voice when he’s making calls on the shell. Harry’s hand has slipped higher up on his leg, scratching the inside of Louis’ thigh with the blunt nail of his index finger, and Louis shifts closer subtly, pressing into Harry’s touch. “Okay, I get it, I’m loud. I’m glad that’s all you guys think of when you think of me, you buncha shits.”

Harry laughs unabashedly at that, his head tilted back as he does so. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I was just fuckin’ with you,” he says. “Three words to describe Louis Tomlinson. Well, bossy definitely still stays-”

“Still in a good way, Lou!” Greg chimes in again, and Louis leans over the table to fist bump him once more. 

“One of the louds can stay,” Harry continues. “So bossy, loud, and...charming.”

“Aww,” Louis coos at that, covering Harry’s hand on his thigh with his own. “I am pretty charming, aren’t I.”

“It’s a good thing someone already described Harry,” Niall says after a moment. “Don’t think we wanna know what words Louis would use to describe him.”

Once again, the table breaks out in laughter. Harry’s blushing a little bit, but still grinning, and Louis simply nods to affirm what Niall said. 

“It’s true,” he starts. “I’m rather creative.”

\--- 

They have an early practice the next morning, and Louis grumbles the entire ride over. Liam, bless him, offered to swing by to get him and Niall to save them the trip. Niall’s just as useless in the morning as Louis is, so it’s beneficial to both of them that Liam’s a saint. (And happens to live in their apartment complex.)

As soon as he climbs onto the shell, though, he’s wide awake. He guides his team, making his calls flawlessly.

“Beautiful day, fellas!” He calls in between exercises, leaning back in his seat a bit, his hands on the edge of the boat. “We ready for next weekend yet?”

Harry grins up at him from the stroke seat, right in front of him, one eye closed against the glare of the sun as he does so. He leans forward in his own seat, and Louis can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling distractedly. His hair is out of the ponytail today, but still pushed back with a thick black headband. Louis registers belatedly that its his headband, and he makes a mental note to try to steal it back from Harry later.

“You know it,” Harry answers, and the rest of the rowers respond as well. Harry catches Louis’ eye again, making a show of trying to look up at his own head to draw Louis’ attention back to his headband, since he can’t gesture to it with two oars in his hands. Louis narrows his eyes in a faux-glare and Harry winks, laughing.

“Gonna kick ass!” Louis hears from the very back of the shell, and leans to the side to wink at Bressie.

Coach’s whistle blows then, from where he’s standing on the edge of the dock, and they all turn to look at him. He speaks into his megaphone, calling out instructions for their next practice drill, and Louis gets his rowers in gear quickly after.

An hour later, once they’ve got the boats and oars put up, Louis is walking back towards where Li’s car is parked.

“Lou!” He hears from behind him and stops walking, turning around to see Harry jogging towards him. He grins up at him as he gets closer, and this time he’s the one with one eye squinted closed because of the sun. Harry stops right in front of him, not even an arm’s length away. “Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath. He’s got his t-shirt balled up in his hand and his gym shorts are sitting low on his hips, and he’s still got a nice little sheen of sweat covering his entire upper half. It works for him. “What are your plans now?”

“Don’t have class til 2,” Louis answers, and turns back around to keep walking, Harry falling into step beside him. “Thinkin’ about going back to bed if I’m honest.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Harry responds, turning to look at Louis as they walk and winking at him. “Except… no one’s surprised.” He nudges Louis with his shoulder. “Go to breakfast with me instead.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna have to put your shirt back on?” Louis asks, giving Harry an obvious onceover. “Cause that’s probably a deal breaker, actually.”

Harry beams. “Come back to mine, then. I’ll make breakfast. _And_ keep my shirt off.”

Louis grins right back at him. “Best of both worlds, Styles.”

He yells back to Liam and Niall that he’s catching a ride (and rolls his eyes at the subsequent catcalls he gets from the two of them when they see him with Harry) before bumping shoulders with Harry. Well. He bumps his shoulder into Harry’s almost upper arm. 

Harry looks at him and smiles, and Louis has to look away so that he doesn’t run into anything (and also so he doesn’t start grinning like an idiot.) When he does so, Harry tuts.

“Lou,” he starts, and switches his balled up t-shirt into his other hand so that he can reach his arm up around Louis’ shoulders, his thumb pressing lightly into the back of his neck, right at the top of his spine. “Your neck’s burnt again. Thought you were gonna start wearing stronger sunscreen. Or wearing sunscreen at all?”

Louis peers up at him and grins sheepishly. “Oops,” he amends. “I forgot?”

It’s the only part of him that ever burns- the rest of him tans a nice golden bronze, okay, how is he meant to remember sunscreen when he’s never had to worry that much about it before?

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry answers, rolling his eyes, but he tightens his hand just a little bit on Louis’ shoulder and tugs him in closer to him. “C’mon. I think I’ve got stuff to make waffles.”

(He does have stuff to make waffles. He also has stuff to put on _top_ of waffles, and well. That may or may not end up more on their bodies than on the waffles.)

(Harry just barely remembers to unplug the waffle iron before picking Louis up and carrying him and the bottle of whipped cream down the hall and into his room.)

\--- 

That weekend, they take Harry’s old three seater shell out on the river. The weather report looks like nothing but clear skies and nice temperatures, and they all like the extra practice-Harry and Liam like working on their strokes and listening to calls, and Louis likes getting more practice making his calls. It’s not like he doesn’t know them like the back of his hand, but he’s a bit of a perfectionist beneath his goofy demeanor, and he goes over them all the time, muttering them to himself while he’s in the shower or while he’s walking on campus.

(So it’s safe to say that he’s getting appropriately anxious about the upcoming race.) 

“Okay, Li, you’re a bit early. Good. Power 10 in two, one- no, shit, wait-” Louis cuts off. Harry looks at him a bit funny, because there wasn’t actually anything wrong with how he executed the call, his timing was perfect, but he and Liam still pause and wait, knees bent and backs stretched as they reach forward and hold their oars.

The boat keeps moving for a bit, cutting through the water, and it’s early enough in the day that it’s the only thing they can hear, aside from some birds chirping and the sound of Harry and Liam’s labored breathing.

“Lou?” Liam asks after a moment, and Louis straightens up immediately, shaking it off.

“No worries, bro,” he says, and shifts in his seat for a second. “Okay, let’s go again.”

They stay out on the water for a few hours, the boys rowing hard and Louis focusing on executing his calls. Okay, he mainly focuses, but when Harry takes his shirt off during one of their breaks, he gets a little distracted. 

Harry throws his shirt at his face to get him to focus again, and Louis pulls a funny face at him, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes. 

When they’re back where they’re started, Liam and Harry row the shell to shore and then jump out to pull it far enough out of the water that it won’t float away. Louis climbs off then, too, and walks back into the water until it’s sloshing around his ankles.

“Feels nice,” he comments, and then ducks down to dip his hands in the water and splash Harry and Liam. “Doesn’t it?”

“Lou, don’t get me too wet,” Liam starts, but before he can continue, Harry and Louis both interrupt him with a quick ‘That’s what she said!’ Liam rolls his eyes, but smiles nonetheless. “I’ve gotta go meet Soph, and I don’t wanna be soaked.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but its good-natured. “Okay, okay, Li,” he says, raising his hands up to show surrender. Or mercy. Or something. “I’ll hold back from splashing you.”

Instead, he turns his attention on Harry, kicking water at him and splashing him right up his front.

Harry makes an exaggerated surprised face and, with one more check to make sure the boat is safely out of the water, goes running in after Louis. “Have fun, Li!” He calls over his shoulder. “Get in!”

Louis has been backing up as Harry’s approached him, and now he’s shoulder deep in river-water. Harry’s right next to him, but the water’s only up to mid-chest for him, having a decent height advantage over Louis.

He quirks an eyebrow up at Louis then, pausing. They stay like that for a moment, paused, neither of them making the first move, and then Louis yells “WAR” and splashes enough water in Harry’s face to make him splutter.

(Harry’s on him within seconds, hands on his shoulders and pushing to get him to go underwater. They splash and wrestle until they’re both out of breath and coughing up water, and then they drag themselves out of the river and lay out on the dock to dry.)

\--- 

On Sunday night, Louis is sitting at his desk, working on a paper for his Shakespeare class.

He’s four pages in when there’s a light tap on his window, and he frowns for a second, confused. Another one comes, and then another one in quick succession and he stands up, leaning over his desk to pull back the curtains covering his window.

When he sees whats making the noise, he laughs out loud. Harry’s halfway up the tree outside their building, using a rather long twig to poke at Louis’ window.

Louis slides his window open and pokes his head out. “Harry, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m surprising you,” Harry answers simply. “Come downstairs.”

“You come downstairs,” Louis replies instantly, and Harry grins sheepishly.

“I’ll work on it. I was always better at getting up the tree than getting down it,” he admits.

Louis pulls on his shoes and a UW hoodie before grabbing his phone and his keys and heading outside; when he gets around the side of the building, Harry’s just landing on the ground. He lands on his feet but he stumbles a bit (standard) before righting himself. When he sees Louis, he hold his arms out above his head and slides his feet together, mock-yelling “And Styles sticks the landing!”

“You do realize we’re not in a movie, right?” Louis asks as he approaches Harry, referencing Harry’s climb a tree and knock on the window maneuver. “All that was missing was a boom box on your shoulder.”

“I couldn’t find a boom box,” Harry says, and winks. “Besides, the logistics of getting a boom box up a tree are horrifying.”

Louis laughs and steps into Harry’s hug when he holds his arms out, breathing in the smell of his cologne. “So,” Louis starts, side of his face still pressed to Harry’s chest. 

“You’ll see,” Harry answers Louis’ unasked question. “C’mon.”

An hour later, they’re climbing out of Harry’s 2-seater. 

“This is my secret spot,” Harry announces as they tug the boat out of the water. He grabs a lantern out of the bottom of the shell and flips it on, illuminating the surrounding area in dull light. He reaches back in and grabs another package out of the shell, this one smaller. Louis has to squint to see what it is, but when he makes out the labeling on the side of it, he looks up at Harry with a grin.

“Harry Styles,” he says, walking over to where Harry is standing. He grabs the package out of his hands and pokes him in the chest lightly with it. “Are you taking me on an Eno date?”

Harry nods at him a little hesitantly, like he’s not sure if Louis is going to make fun of him or not.

“How cute,” Louis says instead, and Harry beams. Louis pushes up on his toes to press a quick kiss to Harry’s lips. “Alright then, let’s get this thing set up!”

It’s a godsend that Enos are so easy to set up, really, because with Harry’s clumsiness and Louis’ general lack of knowledge when it comes to hammocks, it’s a miracle they even get the thing up between two trees. They do it, though, and Harry climbs in first to show Louis that it’s secure. He reaches up to hang the lantern on a low-hanging tree branch before spreading his legs a bit and opening his arms to Louis. “C’mon, Lou,” he says, looping a finger in Louis’ belt loop and tugging him closer. “The point of an Eno date is for us to be _in_ the Eno, yeah?”

Louis rolls his eyes, but smiles and climbs in a second later. Harry has to help pull him in because they set it up so high, but he gets in without any trouble, really, and squirms about for a few moments until he’s comfortable, tucked into Harry’s side with his legs thrown over his lap. They sit in the middle of the Eno, using the side as a backrest, instead of laying longways and cocooning themselves in it, looking out at the river and watching the stars. 

“Pretty, isn’t it,” Louis comments, tucking his hand inside Harry’s plaid shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his stomach, and spreading his fingers over his butterfly tattoo as he looks at the scene before them. 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. They fall into silence, then, rocking back and forth in the Eno and looking for shooting stars. 

“So,” Louis says some time later, interrupting the silence. “Secret spot, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “Found it when I was like twelve or something. Well, me and Gems did. Been coming here ever since. We’re the only two who know about it. I think. Unless she brought her boyfriends out here and stuff.”

“So this is the Styles’ get laid party trick, then,” Louis says, schooling his face into a serious expression. 

“No! No,” Harry exclaims, trying to turn in the Eno so he can look at Louis better. “Lou, its not like that.”

“Haz, I’m totally screwing with you,” Louis tells him, and leans up to kiss to the line of Harry’s jaw, laughing a little when Harry breathes an audible sigh of relief.

“Not like you’ve been holding out, anyways,” Harry murmurs after a second, and Louis can feel the smirk on Harry’s face where he’s got his lips pressed to Louis’ temple. Louis slides his hand up from Harry’s torso to his chest to give one of his nipples a quick twist.  
Louis is still side-eyeing Harry as he loops his fingers around his wrist, tugging Louis’ hand away from his nipples, and leans in so their mouths are just a breath away.

“I’m kidding,” Harry says, smile tugging at his lips. His other arm tightens where it’s around Louis’ shoulders. “Totally kidding.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis grumbles, but they both know he’s faking it, and he barely holds the frown for another second before he’s smiling, too, reaching up to hold Harry’s face in his hands and pulling him in the rest of the way so he can kiss him.

\--- 

They stay out in the Eno until way later than they should, both of them nodding off, warm and tangled in each other.

When Harry wakes up, Louis is still dozing. He's warm and soft in Harry's arms, his head tilted against Harry's chest and his arm around his waist. He shifts closer as Harry moves, snuffling into his chest, murmuring in protest as he starts to wake up, too.

"Oh my God," Louis says, lifting his head from Harry's chest. He pulls the arm that he's been laying on for who knows how long out from under him as he sits up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck before he slumps backward, his legs still across Harry's lap. He eyes him sleepily. "M'arm's asleep."

"My ass is," Harry replies, looping the fingers of one hand around one of Louis' ankles and resting his other just above Louis' knee. 

Louis smiles at him, still waking up, and raises his arms above his head in a stretch, speaking through a yawn. "Time s'it?"

Harry fishes his phone out of the pocket of his gym shorts, lighting up the screen and squinting at the screen, shining too-bright after hours in the dark. "Almost four," he answers.

Louis groans. "Fuck," he starts. "We gotta be at practice in three hours."

\--- 

Predictably, they're both exhausted at practice- they'd had about an hour and a half to sleep by the time they got back to Harry's car, and they'd decided to just grab a nap in the backseat before heading over to campus.

It's easier for Harry to conceal his tiredness than it is for Louis, since Harry doesn't have to manage brain-to-mouth function and can just focus on the burn in his arms and the stretch in his back as he rows. 

But Louis struggles a bit, barely concealing yawns in between exercises and having trouble managing his calls at times. 

Harry cringes when he sees one of their assistant coaches' eyes zero in on Louis mid-yawn, and then again when he sees him nudge the head coach, nodding not-so-subtly at Louis.

"Tommo!" Their coach bellows from the dock, not bothering to use his megaphone. "If you're not ready for practice, hand your seat to a cox who is.We’ll get him ready for your races."

"Seriously, Grimshaw," he hears Bressie mutter from the back of the shell. "Tattle-taling, now?"

Louis' mouth quirks up a little bit, and Harry knows he heard Bres, too. He's still flushed, though, and Harry can see the tension in his body. 

"Sorry, sir," Louis calls back out to their Coach. "I'm here, I'm ready."

"Good," Coach responds, and then looks back down at his clipboard to call out their next drill.

When they finally wrap up practice, Harry catches up to Louis and bumps his hip into him. He doesn't say anything, waiting; sure enough, it takes all of about thirty seconds for Louis to give in and blow up. He's always been a bit more free with his emotions when he's tired.

"Grimmy's such a dick," he says, running a hand through his hair as they walk. "Like. Ratting? Seriously?"

"Yeah," Harry responds. They're almost to his car now, and he fishes his keys from the side pocket of his gym bag to unlock the doors. He's never had a problem with Nick, not really- but then again, Nick's never told on him to the Coach, or drawn attention to him when he's a bit off his game. "That wasn't cool."

Louis throws himself into the passenger seat and groans. "Ugh, whatever. What day is it, Monday?" He yawns and looks over at Harry, who's putting on his own seatbelt. "Any chance I can convince you to blow off classes with me so we can catch up on sleep? You've just got the one today, right?"

"One hundred percent, yes," Harry responds almost immediately, looking back over his shoulder as he backs out of his space. He puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot, finally allowing the tiredness he's been holding off to sink into his bones. 

Ten minutes later, Louis stumbles through Harry's bedroom door, kicking off his shoes and heading straight for the bed.

Harry manages to get to him before he throws himself into it, though, and coerces him into a quick shower; Louis protests, quite loudly, but goes under the pretense that Harry will do all the work.

As soon as they're dry and in fresh boxers, Louis slides under Harry's comforter and groans, content. "Amazing," he says, words muffled because his face is half in one of Harry's pillows. 

Harry chuckles and climbs in beside him, laying on his side and curling around Louis' body, his arm around his waist. It's funny, really, how tired Louis gets if he loses even a bit of sleep- not many know it, but Louis is a total grandpa about his sleeping habits, rarely staying up past ten and getting absolutely exhausted if he does. 

Louis snuffles into the pillow and shifts a bit closer when he feels Harry beside him, rolling onto his side so they're spooning, Louis tucked in Harry's arms, his back to Harry's chest. "Amazing," he sighs again right before he dozes off.

When Harry wakes up some time later- he reaches over to the nightstand to grab his phone and sees that its been five hours- Louis is still passed out. At some point during their nap, he'd managed to find himself under Louis completely, and he barely holds back a laugh when he sees that yes, Louis has actually climbed on top of him in his sleep and is resting comfortably with his face buried in Harry's neck, his knees on either side of Harry's legs, and his arms tucked into Harry's sides. He's getting horizontally koala-ed.

He slides very carefully out from under Louis, although he's pretty sure that nothing will wake him up with how hard he's sleeping, and manages to get off the bed without a peep. Louis simply sighs in his sleep and buries his face in Harry's pillow, snoring softly. 

Once he's outside the bedroom door, he pauses to stretch and yawn, rolling his neck side to side until it pops. He goes down the hall to Zayn's room to piss and wash his hands, not wanting the flush of the toilet to wake the sleeping lump of Louis currently in his bed.

Wiping his hands on his boxers to dry them, he pads into the kitchen and opens the fridge, scratching his stomach absently as he peers inside. 

He decides to make grilled cheese, and its not until he's grabbed the cheese and butter and is closing the refrigerator door that he sees the note Zayn has written on a post it and left for him.

 _go to class u snoring flop_  
(lol i skipped today too i'm @ ni's if ur lookin)  
-zayn ur main 

He's grilling the second sandwich when he hears feet shuffling down the hallway, and he turns to see Louis propped up against the doorframe, clad only in a pair of Harry's boxers, smiling sleepily at him.

"Hey," he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. He blinks a few times in quick succession, trying to wake up some more. "'Cha doin'?"

"Makin' grilled cheese," Harry answers, and reaches the hand not holding his spatula out towards Louis. Louis pads over to him and tucks himself into his side, arms around Harry's waist and Harry's arm around his shoulders, and yawns, staring blankly at the sandwich grilling in the pan. 

"Looks great," he says belatedly, and yawns again. "Oh my God, I slept so hard. I can't seem to wake up."

"Yeah," Harry responds, turning his head to kiss the top of Louis' head. "You koala-ed me and didn't even move when I moved you off me so I could come out here."

"Oops," Louis says, sheepish, and presses up on his tip toes to drop a kiss to Harry's cheek before heading over to the kitchen table. "My bad."

"Was okay," Harry speaks, sliding their sandwiches onto paper plates and making his way to the table as well. "Who needs a blanket when you have a Louis?"

"Ha ha ha," Louis says drily, face not showing amusement. "You're hilarious, Styles."

"Here," Harry deflects, sliding Louis one of the plates and taking a seat. "So. Zayn's at Ni's."

"Yeah?" Louis responds, taking the plate from Harry with a grateful smile. "They together yet, then?"

"Doesn't the world wish," Harry says through a mouthful of grilled cheese. "It needs to happen soon or I won't win the bet."

"Remember no meddling," Louis warns, pointing his finger and attempting to level Harry with A Serious Look, but he's hard to take seriously when he's still all sleep-rumpled, his hair sticking up and lines from the pillow crossing the side of his face. 

Harry holds his hands up in surrender. "No meddling. I know."

Louis winks at him, smiling; they finish their sandwiches without saying much, both still sleepy.

They curl up on the couch after they finish eating, and spend the rest of the afternoon watching tv and cuddling, napping on and off.

When Louis wakes up from his second cat nap, he blinks drowsily up at Harry, who’s been using him as a pillow- reasoning that the couch was too small for spooning, Louis has pulled Harry on top of him. They’d slept that way, with Harry’s head on Louis’ chest and his arms around Louis’ middle, Louis’ legs splayed on either side of Harry’s body. 

“Okay, Styles,” he says, rubbing at his eye. “Move your butt. I can’t feel my legs.”

Harry rolls off of him, sliding in between the back of the couch and Louis’ body, and fakes a pout. “Are you saying I’m fat? Cause you’re the one that pulled me on top of you, actually.”

Louis rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, reaching up to card his fingers through Harry’s long hair. He’s still kind of sandwiched under Harry, but he likes it, to be honest, likes to feel Harry’s solid weight on top of him sometimes. 

“This week’s gonna be crazy,” Harry murmurs, shifting them again so he’s the one on his back, Louis tucked into his side and laying half on top of him. He lands a kiss low on Louis’ forehead, right in between his eyebrows. “Coach is gonna put us through hell for the next couple of days, at least.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, nodding. He traces the tip of his index finger over one of the birds on Harry’s chest. “Hopefully I’ll still be coxing for the race.”

“Lou,” Harry says, frown forming on his face. “You know he’s not gonna take you off.”

“Do I?” Louis questions. He shifts so he can tilt his head up, meeting Harry’s eyes. “Cause if Grimshaw keeps nitpicking my every move, there’s a good chance he will.”

“Coach knows you’re the best we have,” Harry says, cupping Louis’ jaw in his hand so he can maintain eye contact. “Everyone knows that. Forget Grimmy.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, slumping back down against Harry’s chest. “I guess you’re right-”

“I know I’m right,” Harry cuts him off. He uses the arm thats around Louis’ shoulders to tug him in closer. “C’mere,” he continues, prompting Louis to shift so he’s straddling Harry’s hips. He reaches up to cradle Louis’ jaw in his palm again, his thumb tracing softly over the curve of Louis’ bottom lip. “You okay? You seem tense, and I don’t think its just cause Grimmy was a dick today. Is it nerves because of this weekend?”

He sees something in Louis’ eyes change, a shutter being drawn, his face closing off. “I’m fine,” he says, insistent. “Really. Now what do you say to doing some good, quality, making out?”

Harry sees the subject change, clear as day, but he knows Louis well enough not to pry. He makes a mental note to keep an eye on him over the next few days, make sure that he’s not bottling up too much. He gets stressed before any big competitions, gets nervous and worried and loses his confidence, and Harry wants to try to stop it before it becomes too much.

“I say that’s a wonderful idea, actually,” Harry answers, looping his free hand around Louis’ wrist and tugging so Louis is bent over him, face right in front of his, his hands on either side of Harry’s head. Harry smooths a hand down Louis’ side, tilting his chin up a bit and watching as Louis’ eyes flicker to his mouth. “Let’s do it.”

\--- 

Sure enough, they get run _hard_ at their next few practices and gym sessions. Coach won’t settle for anything less than perfection, and on Wednesday night he keeps them in the water for an hour past when practice was supposed to end, making them do the same drill over and over and over until every single one of them gets it perfect.

Louis is on edge after, and waves off Harry’s offer of a ride home. “Thanks, babe,” he says, stopping to push up on his tiptoes and kiss Harry’s cheek, but its rushed and distracted. “But I’m actually gonna run back. Clear my head a bit. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

And he’s gone before Harry can say anything, earbuds popped into his ears as he sets off running. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Niall walking to Liam’s car, Louis’ bag thrown over his shoulder with his own.

“Ni,” he calls, walking over to him. “Hey. Good practice today, dude.”

“Thanks!” Niall replies, grinning at him. “You too. You wondering how Lou is?”

“So I am that obvious?” Harry shoots back, smiling sheepishly. “I’m just worried about him.”

“Nah, man,” Niall says. “You know how he gets. Just, like. Keep doing what you’re doing. He knows you’re there- he’ll come when he’s ready, yeah?”

Harry nods. It’s not really in his nature to just let things fly, see where they go, not when it comes to the people he’s closest to- but he also knows that its not in Louis’ nature to spout off about his feelings the instant they come to the surface. “Yeah,” he finally answers Niall. “You’re right. Thanks, Nialler.”

“No prob,” Niall says. “Hey, you gonna be home tonight?”

Harry looks him over, squinting at him. “Why, you need me to clear out so you can canoodle my roommate?”

Niall flushes immediately, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s your apartment, bro-”

Harry laughs outright. “Ni, I’m fuckin’ with you. My only condition is that if you cook again, leave some more leftovers, yeah? Whatever you made last week was _amazing_.”

Niall preens, grinning as he reaches out to clap Harry on the back. “Hey, thanks, man! Yeah, I’ll make some extra and put it in the fridge for you.”

\--- 

Later that night, Harry’s laying on his bed, headphones in as he messes about on him phone, when he gets a text from Louis.

_hey. wanna come over?_

He replies immediately, typing out a _yeah, be there soon_ before shoving on his sneakers and grabbing his keys. 

“Yo, love-farts,” he calls out. “I’m leaving now! Make sure you use protection!”

He doesn’t get an answer, but he can hear Niall laughing unabashedly from down the hall in Zayn’s room. 

He’s at Louis’ in five minutes, and he knocks on the door.

“Hey,” Louis says when he opens the door, leaning against it as he looks at Harry. “Um. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” Harry responds immediately, and Louis cocks his head to the side, gesturing him in. “You actually saved me from spending the next couple hours in the library, hiding from Zayn and Niall’s noises.”

That startles a laugh out of Louis, and Harry thinks to himself that its nice to see him smile.

When Louis turns around after closing the door, Harry is there, close, and he ducks down to kiss Louis quickly. “Hey,” he says, pulling away. 

“Hi,” Louis says, and goes up on his tip toes so he can kiss him once more. Once he’s flat on his feet again, he wraps his arms around Harry’s middle and hugs him, burying his face in his chest and squeezing him tight. 

Harry’s arms come to wrap around Louis’ shoulders immediately, wrapping him up tight. He hugs him with his head resting on top of Louis’, pressing his lips to his hair and holding him close. 

After a moment, Louis pulls away. He looks tired and soft, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that Harry is pretty sure is his, judging by the way it hangs off of Louis’ frame. “C’mon,” Louis says, tangling his fingers with Harry’s and leading him into the living room, where he’s got a movie Harry doesn’t remember the title of playing. 

They get situated on the couch, Harry sitting at the end, one arm resting on the armrest and one thrown across the back of the couch, with Louis curled up right against him, knees drawn up to his chest and leaning into Harry’s side. They watch the movie in silence for a few minutes, but Harry can feel Louis fidgeting. He rubs his hand down Louis’ arm, in what he hopes is a soothing manner, and Louis presses closer, dropping his head onto Harry’s shoulder.

“Sorry I’ve been weird,” Louis finally speaks, pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over his hands and playing with the edges. 

“You’re good,” Harry says, squeezing Louis quickly. He ducks his head to press a kiss to the side of Louis’ head. “Was just worried about you, is all.”

“I know,” Louis sighs, and rests a hand on Harry’s thigh. “Sorry. I’m just-”

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs. He kisses Louis’ temple again. “Wanna talk about it?”

Louis sighs again, but then he nods and takes a breath. “You know how I’m a bit of a perfectionist-”

“A bit?”

Louis snorts, nodding his head. He starts over. “Okay. You know how I’m a total perfectionist?” Harry nods, and he continues. “And how I get stressed before competitions, think I’m gonna mess up and ruin it for the team.”

“Lou,” Harry says softly. “We would literally be up the creek without a paddle if we didn’t have you. You’ve gotta know that. Nerves are normal, but you gotta like, have faith in yourself, too, yeah?”

“I know,” Louis replies. “But its easier said than done, though, y’know?”

“Definitely,” Harry agrees. He turns to face Louis then, as much as he can, and pulls him into a hug. When he speaks again, its into the junction of Louis’ neck and shoulder. “You’re gonna be great, Lou.”

Louis squeezes him a little tighter, and Harry swears he can feel Louis smiling, his lips pressed to Harry’s shoulder while as they hug.

\--- 

Their next couple of practices are a little more laidback- Coach doesn’t ever push them too hard in the days right before a race, not wanting them to get too overworked or sore, allowing them a few days to recover from the intense practices they had at the beginning of the week.

Louis is still tense, but he seems to be doing better- all of their practices go off without a hitch, and by the time they’re leaving their last practice on Friday morning, Louis even has a little bounce in his step.

“Gonna kick ass, aren’t we Nialler?” He says as he and Niall are leaving practice, throwing an arm around Niall’s shoulders as they walk. 

“Somebody’s mood has improved,” Liam comments, walking beside Louis, and Louis throws his other arm around his shoulders. 

“Yep,” Louis answers, popping his lips on the ‘p’. “I’m trying this thing where I don’t acknowledge the nerves and they _almost_ go away.”

He separates himself from them then, clapping them both on the back while they shake their heads at him. “Good job today, boys. See you later,” he says, heading towards Harry’s car, where Harry’s leaning against the side of it. Since it’s the last practice before the competition, and neither of them have any Friday classes, they’re gonna hang out for a few hours before Team Dinner. 

“Ready?” Harry asks as Louis approaches. He takes Louis’ bag off his shoulder and opens the door enough to toss it in the back; when he turns back around, Louis has stepped into his space. With his hands on Harry’s hips, he pushes him back against the side of the car, stepping in between Harry’s legs and leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips, his hands still on his hips and holding him back against the car.

As soon as he’s there, he’s gone, walking around to the passenger side. “Yep, ready,” he finally answers, sliding into the front seat and grinning at Harry as he gets into the driver’s seat. 

While Harry starts the car and puts on his seat belt, Louis reaches over to rest a hand on Harry’s leg. He rubs at Harry’s knee absently, his own knee bouncing as he waits- both are nervous habits that stem from his inability to stay still when he’s worried. 

“You good?” Harry asks, letting the car idle while he turns his head to look at Louis. Louis’ hand stills on his knee, and after a moment, he nods.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Yeah, Haz. I think I am.”

“Good,” Harry says, believing it for the first time since that weekend, finally putting the car in reverse and backing out of his parking space. “Good.”

\--- 

They win all of their races the next day, kicking the assess of the surrounding schools’ rowing teams. It’s amazing, really- for all of the nerves he had, Louis’ performance is _flawless_. He looks right at home, sitting at the front of the shell and making his calls for his rowers on varsity 8, guiding them to a win in each of the races they row.

When the horn is blown to signal the end of the last race, Louis guides the shell back to the dock; once they get the boat out of the water and put it up out of the way, Louis all of a sudden finds himself upside down and looking at a butt.

After a moment, he realizes he’s been thrown over someone’s shoulder, and everyone around him is hooting and hollering; after another second, he realizes that he recognizes the butt he’s staring at, the dimples in the back just above it, skin tan and glistening with water and sweat.

“Hey!” he says. “I know this butt!” Which means, of course, that he then smacks it repeatedly, playing butt-bongos on the pert little bottom he’s currently viewing upside down until he hears Harry laughing and he’s being lowered back to the ground.

The guys around him are laughing, all of them riding the high of their win.

“Good work today, boys!” Their Coach’s voice cuts through their chatter, putting a pause to their celebrations (and the plans they’re making for the Real Celebrations that night). “I’m giving you Monday off from practice and weight training. See you Tuesday!”

They all cheer at that, the knowledge of getting to sleep in on Monday morning and not having 6 am practice. 

That night, Louis finds himself in his own kitchen, surrounded by his teammates and a bunch of their friends, and very much so on his way to being drunk. Every time he’s been close to finishing one drink, Niall has popped up with another, demanding he finish the one in his hand before replacing it with a full one.

Zayn’s got the music blasting from the living room, where some of the guys have set up a makeshift dance floor, and from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, Louis can see Harry dancing goofily in the middle of it, a beer in his hand as he dances. 

“Styles!” He yells, and Harry’s head pops up immediately, eyes seeking him out. When they land on Louis, he grins and waves him over. 

He goes, because he can’t _not_ go, not when Harry’s grinning at him so dopily, never ceasing in his terrible, terrible dancing. 

As soon as he’s within arms reach, Harry grabs his wrist and pulls him to him, ducking down to kiss him, quickly and a bit sloppy, drunk and smiling. Then he’s turning Louis around and pressing up behind him, draping himself over Louis, chin on Louis’ shoulder and the hand not holding his beer at Louis’ hip; it’s like a flip switches, as soon as they start moving together- Harry’s clumsy dance moves from before fade, and he’s moving with Louis in a perfect rhythm.

Louis smiles- he’s got a win tucked under his belt and his boy pressed up behind him, dropping kisses to the side of his neck, the junction of his shoulder, as they dance. Louis has to turn back around then, needs to see Harry, wants to kiss him, and so he does, shifting in Harry’s arms and lifting his arms up to wrap them around Harry’s neck and press in close.

When he pushes up on his tiptoes and kisses Harry, slow and lazy, tasting of tequila and beer, Louis feels lighter than he’s felt all week.


End file.
